


The Stress of Battle

by abyss1826



Category: God of War (Video Games)
Genre: Atreus? Meeting kids his own age? It's more likely than you think!, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Injury Recovery, Mythology References, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Kratos (God of War), References to Norse Religion & Lore, Three year timeskip, characters from norse mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-05-31 20:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15127484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abyss1826/pseuds/abyss1826
Summary: Fimbulwinter is at its end, and with Atreus getting older and discovering his powers, Odin's curiosity about the boy grows. But Atreus has some curiosity of his own and wants to search Midgard for other hidden Jotunn to learn from in order to deal with the challenges Odin keeps sending their way.





	1. Strange Company

**Author's Note:**

> This is a lot of set up.

All of Fimbulwinter Atreus had spent with Laufaye’s books, trying to teach himself magic and find out what his powers would be before the dream he had of Thor’s arrival caught up with them. Few things about Jotunn magic could be learned safely without guidance, though. That was just how magic seemed to work, as far as Atreus could tell.  
“Hey Mimir?” the boy asked, closing the book in his lap.  
“What is it, lad?” Atreus listened carefully to the noises outside, making sure Kratos wasn’t coming back from hunting yet, before speaking up again.  
“Do you think Freya is angry with me, too? Like she is with Father?” Mimir sighed deeply, thinking.  
“I’m not sure, little brother, it’s entirely possible…. You didn’t exactly keep out of the fight with Baldr after all. I doubt she feels as strongly against you as she does against him, though, why do you ask?” He saw Atreus shrug from his spot on the table.  
“I’mma need a lil’ more than that, lad.”  
“It’s just… Freya’s a Witch, she could help me learn magic but I know Father would never let me near there, and I don’t know if she’d even help, or if she’d be angry with me for asking….”  
“Aye… It may be best to just leave her be, little brother.”

It wasn’t until the air began to thaw that Atreus had managed to convince his father that they would be able to find other Giants that had hidden in Midgard the same as Faye had, that he could learn from them. They were already planning to travel the realms to get the Dwarves materials to build Mimir a body, after all; searching for signs of Jotunn magic couldn’t hurt.  
But then Thor came, just like Atreus knew he would, just like he told them he would.  
The fight ended as quickly as it had started. Thor got up from the floor of the deepened ravine in the yard and he laughed. Again, Kratos demanded to know what Thor had come for.  
“Well Odin’s been curious, you see,” the god started, slicking his braided hair back with blood from the closing wound on his forehead, “it’s not every day you find a new Giant, after all, half-breed or otherwise.”  
“You are not answering my question,” Kratos growled, further positioning himself between the god and his son.  
“I wasn’t trying to.” The god grinned menacingly. “If it were up to me, I’d kill you right here for what you did, but Odin’s making me hold back, for now.” He stepped closer to Kratos, raising Mjolnir again up to the sky. Atreus drew another arrow, but Kratos put his arm out, keeping his son behind him. “I’ll be in touch,” Thor said, ozone on his breath. With a crash of lightning, he was gone. Atreus spun around, expecting the god to show up from another vantage point and continue the battle, but Thor never came.  
“Did he just leave?”  
“It seems so.”  
Atreus clenched his jaw, looking at the sky anyway. It had cleared, now that Thor was gone. He took it as a sign the god truly wasn't just lying in wait.  
“I think I see a good way up,” Atreus said, putting his bow on his shoulder and pointing to a rough line in the cliff. His father nodded silently in agreement, and the two began to climb back up.  
Atreus sighed when they walked back into the cabin, looking at the new smoldering hole in the roof.  
“That was quite the fight out there,” Mimir noted, hanging from his hook in the wall. “It's good to see you two alright.”  
“I will go gather wood for repairs,” Kratos stated, ignoring the man's concern. “Stay here and clean up the rubble.” Atreus nodded and grabbed the broom.  
“You… don't need any bandages?” He asked, his father halfway through the door.  
“Don't concern yourself, boy, they will heal.” Atreus looked concerned regardless as Kratos closed the door behind him.  
“Don't worry yourself lad, I'm sure he'd ask for help if he really needed it,” Mimir said softly.  
“He's going to get an infection someday if they keep closing without being cleaned,” the boy muttered.  
“Maybe you should tell him that, then.”  
“He’ll just say I've been spending too much time with Sindri.” He opened the door to sweep the sweepable rubble outside before putting back the broom and piling the larger shards of beams in his arms. He went outside and put them with the firewood. As he walked back to the door he paused, feeling something watching him. He turned and scanned the melting underbrush, briefly spotting a pair of deep brown eyes before they disappeared in a rustle of bushes.  
“Hello?” He called with a frown. Hearing two hushed voices for a moment spurred his curiosity, and he followed. The tracks he could see through the branches suggested that what he had seen was a wolf, but if that were true then what he was following would have to be twice the size of any he had ever seen.  
When he entered a small clearing he found the wolf, brilliant, red, and easily a foot taller than him, disappearing into a thick grove of trees.  
“Wait!”  
When he got through them, the wolf was nowhere to be seen. The tracks lead up to a mound of rocks near the stream and disappeared. Atreus frowned, putting a hand to the stone. Nothing about them looked magic, or like any sort of doorway.  
He pulled out his journal and made a quick sketch of them, writing about the wolf and how it's tracks ended there. His father probably wouldn't think much of it, but maybe Mimir would know something?  
He made his way back to the cabin quickly, not wanting Kratos to come home and find him gone.  
“Did somethin’ happen?” Mimir asked when he pushed open the door.  
“Sort of?” Atreus said, sitting down at the table to write about the rest of the day. “There was a huge wolf watching me, and I followed it. I heard two people talking, too, but I couldn't tell what they were saying, or see them. One might’ve been the wolf? I followed it to the stream but the tracks ended at some rocks.”  
“Strange!”  
“It was a bright red color, too.”  
“Was it now….” He looked over at Mimir to see him frowning thoughtfully.  
“Do you think… someone sent it? Like Odin and the ravens?”  
“I'd say it's more likely to have been someone, little brother, but the only person I know of to match that description was killed by Thor, or probably was anyway. He killed their mother, after all, and she was just a little younger than yourself when it happened. Can't imagine she got away….”  
“That's…. That's awful….”  
“It is what it is, little brother. Can't help who your family is.”  
“You said 'their’ mother, right?”  
“That I did, lad.”  
“So… your saying Thor killed his mom? And his sibling?”  
“Sister, yes. Well, half-sister, I think. Maybe. That may’ave been what ticked Odin and Thor off, now that I think of it. Jorth and Odin were by no means a married couple, but she was the only one he went to when he was lonely for a time. I suspect the idea of her having another partner made him jealous.”  
“He had her killed because he was jealous? Didn’t he love her? They had a kid!”  
“Well, you have to love someone… exactly… to have kids with them....” Mimir said awkwardly. “Freya had Baldr, after all, and she and Odin never quite ‘loved’ each other.” A moment of silence stretched between them before Atreus said anything.  
“Did you know Thor’s sister?”  
“Only through Sight, I’m afraid. As tensions between the Aesir and the Jotunn grew Jorth visited Asgard less and less, which was around the time she was born.”  
“Wait, Thor’s mom was a giant?”  
“She sure was! Full of earth magic, that one; very connected to Midgard. She lived down here more often than she lived in Jotunheim.”  
“Huh…” Atreus stared into space for a moment. “Who do you think the wolf was, then?”  
“I’m not sure, but there are many wolves in the Ironwoods outside Midgard. They coulda’ just been visiting. Either way, it didn’t sound hostile, and I think you and your father have bigger problems on your horizons than a strange wolf.”  
“Yeah…” Atreus agreed softly, “we do….”


	2. The Serpent's Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its 302 am and my only beta is Grammarly have some plot

“I wonder how the Valkyries are doing since we freed them,” Atreus said, making small talk while he and Kratos walked back to Brok and Sindri’s shop to give them the last material (as far as the current plan went) for Mimir’s prosthetic body. “Do you think Hel is back to normal?”  
“I suppose we could check,” his father replied, eliciting a chuckle from Mimir.  
“Unless they need a different conductive material for the magic that can only be found there, I don't think we'll be going to Hel anytime soon.”  
“Don't jinx it for me lad! I want it to work this time!”  
“Like we don't?” Atreus laughed but stopped abruptly at the sound of an arrow whistling through the air nearby accompanied by the cry of a raven. The Eye of Odin fell to the ground just a few yards ahead of them, golden shaft protruding from its neck. The two looked in the direction the arrow was shot from, Kratos even leaving the path to investigate, but no one was there.  
“Whoever shot that got away,” Kratos stated, walking back to the path to find his son poking at the bird with the tip of one of his arrows. “What are you doing?”  
“Never too old to poke at dead things, brother!” Mimir chimed from the man's belt.  
“Quiet, head.”  
“The arrow has some kind of enchantment, I think, but I can't tell what it is if I can't see the rune. I think it's… too deep…. There was a scrap of paper tied to the end of it, though.”  
“Really?”  
“It says that Freya got her wings back. Someone's trying to warn us.”  
“Someone we haven't met yet….”  
“Probably, I mean, I can't see Brok or Sindri trying to tell us anything this way.” Atreus looked around as they started moving again. His eye caught something bright and golden in the trees. “Father look, its a warbler! The birds are coming back!”  
“Unless it’s just another animal sent to spy on us,” Kratos growled.  
“No, there’s a robin too, they always come back quickly.” He pointed at the red-breasted bird hopping from branch to branch in a different tree. Kratos grumbled anyway. They walked some more in silence until Atreus spoke up again.  
“Didn't Odin curse Freya to not be able to hurt anything living?”   
“That he did, lad.”  
“How is she… a threat… then?”  
“Well, she can't harm either of you directly, but she can certainly summon things that will.”  
“Oh…”  
“Is something on your mind, son?” Atreus shrugged.  
“I don't know, just… she's so nice…. None of this would have happened if Baldr had decided to go on and experience everything he couldn't before the curse was broken instead of fighting.”  
“It is a waste to dwell so much on the past Atreus, it cannot be changed.”  
“I know but… sometimes I wonder if he could have been better, with nothing to be angry about anymore.”  
“You believe he could have changed?”  
“Probably. You did…” Atreus shrugged awkwardly, unsure if he should have said that or not.  
“Well, I learned a lot from your mother,” Kratos admitted fondly, making his son smile. Atreus gave another glance towards the sky.  
“Do you think the clouds have been getting darker, or…?” The boy asked. The birds suddenly few from their trees, chirps sounding like warnings though, strangely, Atreus couldn’t hear them speak.  
The moment Kratos stopped to observe their surroundings more thoroughly, the ground betrayed him and bound him in roots, picking up Atreus and throwing him several yards behind the treeline. Kratos pried against the sturdy wood wrapping itself around his neck as he heard an enormous and telling pair of wings land behind him.  
“Freya-” he growled, not sounding nearly as menacing while being choked. He heard her draw her sword and felt it press against an exposed portion of his arm. “-you can’t do this.”  
“Actually, I think that I can, because you Kratos, are a loophole in Odin’s magic all on your own.” The edge of the sword sunk into his skin. “You, have already died.”  
“Oh dear,” Mimir gasped softly beneath the tangle of roots. Kratos heard Freya sigh in irritation and felt the head be removed from his belt, only to be thrown it the same direction as Atreus without a word. Before Kratos could say anything the sky darkened and the air buzzed with ozone. Thor crashed to the ground in front of them, eyebrows raised.  
“Father is quite upset with you,” he informed, looking over Kratos’ shoulder.  
“He’s always liked to make time for that, hasn’t he.” Freya sounded tired and unamused by her ex-stepson’s theatrics.   
“Where’s the brat?”  
“That doesn’t concern you.”  
“What, killing the father but protecting the boy? He’ll never forgive you.”  
At that moment both a pack of wolves and murder of crows attacked from the trees, the sudden distraction weakening the goddesses focus enough for Kratos to rip himself from the roots. Atreus added to the chaos by leaping onto Thor’s back from a tree and stabbing him hilt deep in the shoulder, Mimir hanging from his belt in what had been a surprising turn of events for each of them.  
It panicked Kratos to have Atreus involved in a fight like this, but he had to be grateful to Freya for never targeting the boy. She was as tough an opponent as Thor, if not more difficult, turning their very environment against him. He was thrown into the air by roots countless times, and with her wings Freya was able to continue the fight in the air, adding to his impact.  
She was a difficult opponent to read, not seeming fatigued even as time dragged on and the forest path became a crater of thawing earth and tangled roots.  
Eventually, he managed to disarm her, her sword flying out of reach. Instead of lunging for it Freya grappled with him in the dirt, making him fight both her hold and the hold of what seemed like every tree in the forest.  
“What will your revenge get you, Freya?” he growled, skin still gleaming red. “What will become of Atreus when I am gone?” The question made her falter, and he used the opportunity to kick her off and roll away before throwing the ax into Thor’s back, effectively distracting him and allowing his son to avoid being cornered. He was looking a bit worse for wear, with parts of his armor blackened by lightning and his hair sticking up in places despite its recent length. Kratos needed to end this fight before anything got worse. He turned back to Freya to block a heavy punch.  
“Killing me will not stop your grief, it can only cause more.”  
“And you would know?” she snarled, inches from his face.  
“You would be surprised at how well.”  
He heard Atreus’ warning yell too late, and suddenly the point of Freya’s sword was between them, slicing up and twisting through him.  
“Slow and old, Spartan,” Thor hissed. Freya stepped away in shock as the god pulled her sword out of Kratos’ chest and let him fall to the ground. Atreus ran to his father’s side and tried to apply pressure to the wound, but there was just too much blood, he could feel it soaking the soil as he tried to stop it.  
“What? She was just going to kill him anyway, I just got the job done before she could doubt herself,” Thor said casually.  
Atreus didn't know the word for the magic pooling in his throat, didn't know how to give it direction, but with his father dying in his lap and the glow of rage on his skin, he didn't care.  
Thor would suffer.  
There was no word for the magic that streamed blindingly from his scream, rising up and sinking it's sharp teeth into the god’s throat, more powerful and personal than any creature ever summoned from a rune. It coiled around the god and threw him to the ground, knocking Mjolnir out of his panicked swing. Bones snapped, and all Freya could do was watch in dawning horror.  
Thor was dropped in a crumpled heap, drowning in the blood of his torn out throat.   
The forest became silent as the magic condensed into a physical form, Atreus’ power and purpose giving it life.  
His father wasn't paying attention, though.  
“Freya, help him, please!” Atreus sobbed. “He's not going to heal fast enough on his own!”  
Faced with the true implications of her revenge against the man who had killed her son, Freya realized she would never truly be able to fulfill her desire, not when she would be depriving a child of the only parent he had left. Not when doing so would mean Atreus would never forgive her.  
She ran to his side.  
“Do you remember what I did to heal the boar you shot, the day we met?”  
“Yeah?”  
“I will do the same for him, but we must get to my home, quickly. I will carry him.”  
Freya lifted Kratos out of the boy's lap and directed him to a gateway.  
“Activate it using this and we will be in the caves,” she said, tossing Atreus an entry rune. He ran ahead and did as he was told, not noticing the small serpent coiled around his wrist. It wasn't until the spell had been done and Kratos was recovering in her bed that he saw it.  
“Mimir?” He asked slowly, looking at the snakes strange and familiar face, “what exactly did I do… back there?”  
“I was wondrin’ when you’d ask me that,” the head exclaimed from his recent spot on the table. “You birthed the World Serpent! Damn near killed Thor with it, too! Mighty feat of magic, that was, little brother, though I'm fairly certain you're a dad now.”  
Atreus glanced down at the small snake harmlessly trying to nibble at his fingers, hardly the length of his forearm, before looking to Freya.  
“He speaks the truth,” she sighed, taking a pause from cleaning the instruments used for the spell. “Your true name… it isn't Atreus, is it?”  
“It's what I've always been called,” he replied defensively, knowing exactly what she was talking about. She gave him a stern look. He sighed. “Mother wanted to name me Loki… there were paintings about our journey to Jotunheim at the peak, that's how we found out she was a Giant.” He stared down at the floor.  
“You're going to be in an incredible amount of danger when Odin finds out about this Atreus, ever since the prophecy of Ragnarok was foretold-” she stopped herself. “You can't let them catch you.”  
“What do I have to do with Ragnarok?”  
“You've heard of how Jormungandr and Thor are to kill each other in the final battle, haven't you?” Mimir asked, “Is that not clear enough lad?” Atreus continued to stare at the floor. Now that the battle was over and his father was safe, his exhaustion was making itself known. Freya looked at him and sighed softly.   
“I don’t have another bed, but with some blankets, the rocking chair should be comfortable enough. You need to rest as much as he does with the amount of magic you used at your age, untrained.”  
“Could you teach me?” he asked, suppressing a yawn.  
“Yes, but not this instant,” she chuckled, drying her hands on a cloth and getting the extra blankets from the trunk at the foot of the bed. “Take off your armor or you won’t be doing yourself any favors.” Atreus complied, Jormun slithering into the warmth under his sleeve as soon as there was access.  
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t go anywhere,” Freya promised when he gave her a nervous look. Atreus nodded before curling up in the large rocking chair and the blankets. If he closed his eyes and listened to the hearth, he could almost pretend they were home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kratos sitting on a log in Freya's yard after becoming the grandfather to a snake whose dad is 15: The whole point of moving north was to quietly retire...
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment if you liked!   
> Thank you to furtivus and WhiffleWaffles for commenting on the first chapter and motivating me to get this one done so quickly. I was really struggling to get through the fight scene between Kratos and Freya. Honestly, speculations fuel me. I love reading what I'm making you think about :3c.
> 
> Also I have a tumblr where I post about my fic writing, independent writing, and art so if you're interested in that or want to chat or see funny posts similar to what I started this note off with check it out! I'm smallest-letters.tumblr.com


	3. Calm Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A recovery period

Freya had just finished cleaning up after the spell when she heard a timid knock on her back door.

“Who is it?” She asked defensively.

“L-Lady Freya?” A man asked from the other side. She opened it a crack, peering out at the dwarven brothers.

“How did you find this place?”

“Jus’ looked hard enough I guess,” Brok exclaimed. “Heard the boy's screamin’ all the way from the shop.”

“Are they alright? We found that crater, and,” Sindri gagged, picturing how they had found Thor. Freya sighed and opened the door for them to enter her home.

“They will both be fine,” she assured, “But  _ do not _ disturb them. I doubt Kratos will be kind enough to himself to recover fully before heading out if he wakes up.”

“He’d wait… for the boy,” Sindri whispered while managing to not be any quieter.

“The boy would only insist he was fine in order to move on.”

“Are you sure-”

“-I took care of his fever, I  _ watched _ it happen.”

“Oh.”

The brothers sat down at the table with Mimir while Freya got to work cleaning the blood and grime off of her sword.

“Whose blood is  _ that _ ?” Brok asked.

“Kratos’. Thor stabbed him with it.”

“That’s yours, aint it?”

“It is.”

“What were  _ you _ doin’ there?” Sindri kicked his shin under the table, but Brok ignored it.

“My reasons have passed. There is no need to discuss them.” The dwarf raised his eyebrows and shrugged, picking up Atreus’ armor from the chair next to him where Freya had set it.

“Damn.” He whistled. “Bastard really did a number on this thing, huh?” He slid it over to Sindri.

“Oh dear,” the man said softly before looking over at the bundle of blankets on the rocking chair. “I-is he alright?”

“Any injury he managed to sustain has well healed, by now, young as he is. He needs to regain his strength because he unleashed so much magic at the end of the battle, not because your armor wasn’t enough.” The brothers were relieved, though Sindri showed it far more than his brother.

“What’d the lil’ shit manage to do?”

Kratos ended up regaining consciousness during the long stretch of time Freya paused for, enabling her to avoid answering altogether.

The Spartan shot up in bed before doubling over with a pained gasp from his suddenly aggravated injury. Freya put the sword down with a clatter and rushed to the bedside.

“You need to  _ rest _ ,” she said, pushing him back down into the bed by his shoulder.

“I thought you wanted me dead,” he growled, pushing away her hand and sitting up again despite his body’s protest.

“I do, but it is in your son’s best interest that you  _ live _ ,” she replied, eyeing his bandages to see if he was causing himself to bleed through. He wasn’t, yet.

“Did we miss something?” Sindri whispered to Mimir.

“She likes Atreus too much to kill his father over Baldr.”

“Ah.”

“Where is Atreus,” Kratos demanded, scanning the room.  He paused over the dwarves at the table but elected to ignore them for the moment.

“Resting as  _ you _ should be, in the rocking chair. Do not wake him.”

Kratos silently ignored her and got up from the bed, walking carefully to the chair in front of the hearth. Atreus was curled up sideways in the large chair, one leg hanging over an armrest and head pillowed on a blanket supported by the one on the opposite end.

“He's not injured, only exhausted,” the goddess whispered. Kratos’ expression softened with relief. He reached down and carefully rubbed away a smudge of soot from the boy's chin, receiving an amused chuckled from Freya.

“He's going to need a lot more than that if he wants to clean up later.”

“It will do.”

 

The light air between them hardened as Kratos saw Jörmungndr poke his small nose out from the blanket covering his father's shoulder, where he had been sleeping. Freya grabbed Kratos’ hand to prevent him from snatching the strange thing crawling on Atreus off of him.

“Don't.”

“What-”

“Atreus created The World Serpent in order to defend you from Thor,” she explained quickly.

“The boy did  _ WHAT _ ?!” Sindri yelped, not quite drowning out the string of curses Brok had unleashed.

“He was much larger before taking his solid form,” Mimir added. “Luckily, Thor won't be recovering from  _ that _ encounter anytime soon. He was as dead as dead can get him before Ragnarok, last we saw!”

“Atreus… killed Thor?”

“Well, no…. The serpent tore his throat out, but that will only delay him for a time. Frankly, I'd be proud of the lad if it weren't so terrifying!”

Kratos stared at the thing trying to worm itself under Atreus’ shirt in undisclosed shock.

“Looks to me like yer’ a grandfather,” Brok stated, clapping him on the shoulder.

 

The noise was finally enough to rouse Atreus, and the odd trio of adults looking down at him enough to confuse his half-asleep brain.

“What…?” He mumbled, shifting in the chair.

“He should be in bed,” Kratos said quietly, rounding the chair and scooping the sleepy boy into his arms. Atreus gazed up at him with half-open eyes.

“You’re okay…”

“Yes, I am.” Atreus rested his head against his father’s arm.

“You almost died.” Kratos forced himself to not look down.

“I am well now, that is what matters.”

“But-”

“It is unnecessary to dwell on what happened, Atreus.” He put the boy down onto the bed and pulled the blanket over him. “You need to rest.” Atreus spoke up again as the man turned away.

“A-are you sure you're alright?”

“Yes, I am sure.”

“He is healing well,” Freya affirmed. The boy nodded slowly before drifting off to sleep. Kratos sighed, taking a seat at the table. Freya dried and sheathed her sword as the hut filled with an uneasy silence.

“So, if the kid gave birth to The World Serpent, does that mean he's…?” Sindri trailed off.

“Does that mean he's what?” Kratos asked.

“Yes, he is Loki,” Freya answered somberly.

“How do you know of that name?” Kratos asked aggressively.

“W-well….”

“His name was foretold in visions of Ragnarok, with Jörmungndr as his flesh and blood,” Freya explained. “Odin will become an even greater threat to you both when finds out about this.”

“Then we will leave immediately,” Kratos stated firmly, beginning to stand. The four looked at him in shock.

“This isn't something you can escape, Brother-”

“I will  **not** have my son's fate toyed with by gods!” His hands smoldered into the table.

“Lower your voice,” Freya admonished. Kratos took a deep breath and sat back down, putting his hands on his knees. “I will teach him my craft and do my best to hide the both of you from him, but Odin is much harder to trick than my son. You'll still have to be careful.”

“Whatever you must do, do it.”

“I promise you, I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is way more buffer than I thought there'd be between stabbing and the next thing thats gonna happen sorry. There will be more action the next chapter, probably.


	4. Light The Torch

Freya kept the two of them a little longer after Atreus woke up.

“This will obscure you from Odin's sight, make sure it doesn't wash off,” she said, painting the first rune she had given them on their necks again. “I'll teach you how to do it yourself eventually, when you're more capable with magic,” she told Atreus, “But I can teach you one rune.” She drew it out in his palm. “Kenaz,” she said, “it will place a marker on your father's compass, so he can find you wherever you are if something happens. Trace it on anything, he'll be able to see you.”

“What will the rune look like on the compass?” Kratos asked. Freya looked at him strangely.

“It’s Kenaz, the torch.”

“What will it look like?” Kratos repeated.

“A torch…?”

“He can’t read,” Atreus stated.

“I am  **perfectly capable** of reading, boy, I am merely unfamiliar with this language and it’s alphabet.”

“So… you can’t read.”

Kratos didn’t respond, only sighed heavily. Freya had to make an effort to keep a straight face.

“You’ll know it if the time comes,” she assured, pressing a small river stone into the man’s palm. “This will allow you to enter my house from any gateway. You each have one now. Atreus is welcome to visit in the afternoons to learn Seiðr, though I doubt I can teach him anything Faye knew….”

“Its okay,” Atreus said, “I might be able to figure it out once I know other magic like I do with languages.”

“Mighty optimistic, little brother!” Mimir chuckled. The boy shrugged.

“Well, you should get going.” Kratos nodded silently and activated the doorway.

“Thanks for your help!” Atreus called with a wave. Freya waved back with a smile, and he vanished.

 

Instead of going straight home they stopped at the brothers’ workshop, where Atreus’ armor was being repaired.

“F-father? Do… do you think you could get a chest plate?” Atreus asked quietly.

“Don’t concern yourself over me, boy.” Atreus looked at him in disbelief, then grew angry.

“How exactly do you expect me to not ‘concern myself’ over you?! You can’t almost die in my lap and then expect me to not worry about you! That’s not how people  _ work _ !”

“Atreus,” Kratos growled, the brothers watching his son yell at him with both amusement and concern.

“No! All I’m asking is that you wear some real _freaking_ **armor** for _once_! You wouldn’t even let me leave the _house_ if I didn’t have any, and then you don’t even wear a _shirt_!” he screeched, upsetting Jörm who was around his neck like a torque. Brok butted his way into the conversation while Atreus took a breath.

“Just get a damn chest plate already before the boy breaks a glass or somethin’, will ya?” Atreus reacted to his father's silence by walking away with a huff and kicking a rock across the ground.

“You did almost die on him back there,” Sindri said softly, “it may be best, to at least keep him from worrying.” Eventually, Kratos nodded. Brok threw a piece at him immediately. 

“It may be light and breathable but it’ll still take a hit, even from one of ours,” the dwarf declared. 

“You had this ready?”

“We finished it after the boy’s.”

“You did not have to do this.”

“Oh quit yer yappin and put it on already,” Brok told him, waving his hand dismissively.

“It shouldn't feel much different from what you already wear,” Sindri rambled. “You may not even notice it's there after a while.”

Kratos was surprised at how light it was. The weight was kept to his shoulders, where he was used to it being, and it didn't feel like it would restrict his movement. The dwarves had done good work, as usual.

“It will do.”

 

Sindri grabbed Atreus’ armor and went over to him while Brok talked about what they had used.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Atreus was sat on a small ledge in the rock a couple feet above the ground.

“Looks like your Father's getting some new armor.”

“You convinced him?” Sindri nodded. “How?”

“He won't even feel it.”

“Huh. I'll… feel mine, right?”

“Yes,” the man laughed, “you'll feel it. No different than before, just repaired and less conductive so lightning is less likely to ark to you because of the metal.”

“Cool,” he exclaimed, starting to put it on. “Could you hold him for a sec?” He took Jörm from his neck and handed him to the startled Sindri. “I don't think I'd like armor  _ that _ light, it'd probably freak me out if I couldn't feel it enough.”

Sindri nodded, looking anxiously down at the snake threading through his fingers. He managed to keep relatively composed until Jörm unhinged his jaw and stuck the man's entire thumb in his gummy mouth.

Atreus jumped at Sindri's screech and quickly coaxed the serpent back onto his arm.

“You hungry buddy?” the boy cooed. “We’ll find you something when we get home, I promise.”

“What happened?” Kratos demanded as he approached.

“It  _ bit _ me!” Sindri exclaimed, wiping his hand off on his apron.

“His teeth haven't even grown in yet,” Atreus retorted, “and don't call him 'it’! He's just hungry, I think.”

“Do you know what he eats?” Kratos asked.

“No, but… I'll figure it out. I'll just ask him if I can't get this one to take anything.” Kratos nodded in approval at the plan.

“Well, anyway,” Sindri said awkwardly, “I sewed a little, uh, pocket, on the inside for him to go in. It's just a bit below the collar.”

“Oh cool! Thanks!” Atreus found the small pouch-like area kept close to his chest and let Jörm investigate and eventually slide in completely. “That should keep you warm and safe,” the boy said softly. It functioned the same as the sling Faye had sewn for Atreus as a baby. Kratos hid his amusement behind his usual stoic expression.

“I'm glad i-he, likes it,” Sindri commented. Atreus nodded.

“We must be on our way.”

“Alright, well… be safe now!”

“We will!” Atreus called, waving goodbye as they left through the gateway to their home.

 

“Do you wish to go directly to the serpent?” Kratos asked. “That may be the quickest way to find out what he eats.”

“Maybe….”

“Then let us go to the boat.”

“Okay.”

Atreus hopped into the boat, putting Mimir next to him, and Kratos pushed them off from the dock.

“I wonder if he can breathe underwater, or if he just holds his breath.”

“He was submerged beneath the lake a very long time before we called him. I believe it is likely that he has gills,” Kratos said.

“A snake  _ and _ a fish.”

“Well, a giant, technically,” Mimir corrected.

“Is he really though? I'm not all giant.”

“I believe he would be the same as you since he has no mother.”

“I’m his mom  _ and _ dad.”

Mimir laughed. Kratos’ slight smile was obscured by his beard. They flowed into the lake and Atreus waved up at the World Serpent.

**“I found out I’m your dad!”** he yelled as Jorm lowered his head.

**“I thought that would be happening soon.”**

“You fit in my shirt!”

“I did.”

“Umm...  **What do I feed you? You don’t have teeth and you’re hungry but I don’t know what you eat** .” The serpent chuckled.

**“Fish mostly, I can catch them myself if you put me in the river.”**

**“I won’t lose you?”**

**“No. I sense the magic I was made with. I will always find you if we are in the same realm.”**

**“Oh, good. So… you’ll be okay?”**

**“I will be fine.”**

Atreus nodded and was silent for a few moments.

“Have you said your goodbyes?” Kratos asked, spurring Atreus’ impulsive decision.

**“Was I a good dad?”** The serpent paused.

**“You have liked me as an adult, have you not?”** he answered, lips turned up in an odd smile. Atreus frowned, unsure what to make of that.

“Atreus?”

“Oh, yeah.” His father began to turn the boat.  **“Thanks for the help.”** The serpent nodded before turning back to the mountains. 

“What did he say?” Kratos asked.

“He can fish for himself if I just put him in the river, he won't get lost.” 

“That is fortunate.”

“Yeah.”

“So you will go fishing, then?”

“Yeah, I won't go far though, just closer to the rocks since the fish like to be there.” Kratos nodded in approval. Before he could say anything Atreus had drawn his bow. He didn't see what his son was aiming at until the raven was falling dead from the branches to their right.

“You have gotten quick,” he remarked.

“They move if they think you've noticed them.”

“Really? I had not known that.”

“Did you hear it, lad?”

“I don’t know if… I  _ heard _ it…. They just make things feel off, ya know?”

“No.”

“Oh. Okay.” Atreus shifted awkwardly, looking down at his bow. Kratos didn’t know what to say, so he silently tied their boat to the dock when they got to it and grabbed the head as he got out.

“We don't need fish, do we?” Atreus asked as he stepped on to the dock.

“No.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “I'll just take Jörm then.”

“Be sure to stay on your guard,” Kratos advised, watching his son hop off the dock and begin walking upstream to Faye's fishing spot.

“I will!” Atreus called with a cheerful wave. Kratos nodded, before heading back to the house.

“Not going with him?” Mimir asked.

“He has proven himself capable, and it will not be far. Freya's enchantment should keep him from being visible as well. He is safe.”

“Well, yes, I'm just surprised you're not going with. You are a tad overprotective, after all.”

“I am as protective as any parent would be under these circumstances,” Kratos grumbled.

“Ah, I apologize. Kratos grunted, stopping any possible conversation the rest of the way home. When he got inside he looked up to find a yellow warbler singing in the rafters. 

“Well that’s strange,” Mimir noted, looking at it as Kratos hung him in his usual place on the wall next to the door.

“You had better not be building a nest up there,” Kratos warned. The bird stopped its singing to turn its head and look at him. “I will only take it down.”

“Well that’s a bit rude, don’t you think?” 

“It is rude to build a nest in my house while we live in a forest,” the god answered.

“Eh, I guess.”

Kratos kept an eye on the bird as he idly made a fire and tidied up the house. It fluttered around the rafters, watching him do menial tasks and twittering every once in a while. 

“I do expect you to leave,” he told it. It turned its back to him and started to sing again. Mimir chuckled.

“Sassed by a little bird, eh? Not your proudest moment.”

“It is an animal, it does not know what I am saying.”

“I guess.”

Kratos sat down and poked at the fire with a long stick Atreus had found at some point. He was always bringing in strange strange things from outside. Sticks  _ were _ better than bugs, Kratos supposed. The fact that he had grown out of that had been a relief to both of them. 

The bird began to make a ruckus, chirping loudly and swooping at him from around the room. When Kratos waved it away it shot up through the hatch and into the sky. He stared after it with a frown, wondering why it would act so strangely.

“Brother, the compass!” Mimir gasped. Kratos looked wide-eyed at the glowing addition to the device on his belt and cursed in Greek as he quickly got to his feet and ran out the door, only grabbing the head because he hung next to it.

He looked at the sky in the direction of Atreus’ rune and saw that the sky was black with clouds. As got closer to the location he began to see black iridescent feathers the length of his arm scattered on the forest floor. Fear tightened his chest but he couldn't run any faster. When he broke through the trees he saw a golden-haired woman holding Atreus up by his throat. The moment before he was blinded by a flash of lightning he saw her turn a bloodsoaked grin towards him, Atreus’ knife hilt deep in her right eye.

“Looks like Daddy came too late,” she hissed, voice mingled with the crashing thunder. The next thing Kratos saw when his vision cleared was her throwing his son’s limp body into the air, and a raven near half the size of a dragon dig its talons into his side and carry him away.

“No!” Kratos screamed. He leaped after the bird, but he fell short and there was nothing around him that would get him high enough into the air. The blonde haired woman was on his back as soon as he landed, the wooden handle of a weapon he couldn't make out pulled hard into his throat.

“Won't Odin be surprised at me now, with all the times my father and brothers failed,” she growled in his ear. When the movement of the World Serpent shook the ground she cursed and used his back like a springboard to leap into the air, catching the foot of Odin’s second raven and leaving Kratos behind to run after them on foot.

“Who was that,” he demanded.

“Thrud, I believe, daughter of Thor by his wife Sif,” Mimir answered.

“How did she find him?!”

“I don't know! By all means, it should have been impossible!”

“Well it clearly was not,” Kratos growled, looking up to see Thrud thwart the Serpent's attempts to save Atreus before the raven got to the World Tree. As he did so he heard a large pair of wings behind him, and nearly cleaved Freya with the axe when she swooped down beside him.

“If I carry you to the lake we might just make it,” she stated urgently, the only warning before she put her arms under his and flew back into the air.

When they got to the entrance of the travel room Thrud and the ravens were already being whisked away to Asgard, Atreus’ unconscious form thrown carelessly to the floor.

The two gods stood in shock as the boy they had tried so hard to protect was taken from them. Freya grabbed Kratos' by a strap in his armor when he tried to go into the empty room.

“What are you doing?”

“We must go after them!”

“Going to Asgard alone is a death sentence, you will need help and a plan before you have any hope of rescuing him.”

“There would be no need to rescue him if your magic had worked,” he growled venomously, pushing her away from him.

“This isn't the time to argue, you two!” Mimir interjected as Freya opened her mouth again. “Odin probably just sent Thrud after the young serpent assuming correctly that the boy would be with him! Now let us find the brothers and get a plan together.”

Freya grabbed Kratos and took back to the air again, before either of them could pin vocal blame on her lack of hindsight.

“Was the serpent left behind?” she asked coldly.

“I do not know.”

“Then we will go back to look before we find the Dwarves.” She let him go several feet above the ground when they got to where Atreus’ rune glowed in the soil. He landed with a heavy this, ears immediately picking up on the strange high-pitched cries of Jörm's distress. Kratos found him slithering around Atreus’ journal near the bank of the river. He put his hand out to him, allowing his grandson to curl up in his palm, an obvious lump of some small fish proof he had managed to catch something before Atreus was attacked. Kratos hushed him as he slipped the boy's journal into the pouch on his belt, unsure how else to soothe the serpent.

“What happened,” Sindri asked, suddenly behind him in a manner that would make a normal person jump out of their own bones.

“Thrud caught him, we were too late,” Freya said, not bothering to hide her anger as the other Huldra brother made his appearance. “Kratos will need your help navigating Asgard to rescue him.”

“We’ll need a plan to keep any fucks from finding us, first,” Brok said gruffly. “No point in goin’ to rescue the lil’ shit if Heimdall catches us snoopin around.”

“Well, he wouldn't catch  _ us _ ,” Sindri noted, eyeing Kratos warily.

“We can discuss this elsewhere, I should be able to mix something to keep Odin from being alerted to Kratos’ arrival, but that is all I can aid you with from here,” Freya told them, watching the sky for any of her ex-husband’s eyes. 

“Why can we not just go there and fight?” Kratos demanded.

“‘Cuz that’s a dumbass fuckin’ idea!” Brok exclaimed, “What’d ‘ya plan to do there, kill every Aesir there and take years to get to yer kid even if ya survive?” Kratos took a deep breath.

“We’d get to him faster undetected, is what he means,” Sindri added quickly. “The two of us would be able to go between the realms and look ahead of you, to make sure you don’t run into anybody, and find where they put him and the best way to get there. As long as we keep Odin in the dark, it should be quick and painless,” he stammered.

“Fine,” Kratos growled. “As long as we get him quickly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter! Thank you to everyone who has commented for the motivation!


	5. Woods of the Red Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> have fun with this one, Furtivus

To Kratos’ thinly veiled outrage the ingredients Freya needed in order to hide his entry into Asgard from Odin were things he needed to get for her from Muspelheim and Niflheim, each task taking approximately two Midgardian days to complete. Freya assured him that time was much slower in Asgard, and that Atreus wouldn't be there very long at all once they found him.

Eventually, six days after Atreus was taken, the entry stone to Asgard was coated in Freya's enchantment and the three men were able to leave.

Sindri went ahead of them to act as the scout, ever the cautious one, as Brok hid Kratos from Heimdall and Thrud who were yelling at one another in a dialect the god couldn't make out, near the travel room.

Sindri returned after what felt to him like ages.

“Did you see him?” he demanded.

“He's gone,” the dwarf stammered, visibly perplexed, “they don't know where he is someone took him-”

“They don't have him?!”

“They  _ did _ , clearly, recently, someone got to him before us! I don't know!”

If Kratos were more in touch with his feelings he would cry. They had been so close to getting his son back, to getting him safe again, and now they didn't know where he was or who had taken him anymore.

“If the twerp ain't here we need to leave,  _ now _ ,” Brok muttered through clenched teeth, “I'm sick a seein’ these damn Aesir pass us by like this.”

“Where do we go now?” Mimir asked, still just a head on Kratos’ belt.

“Midgard, we'll tell Lady Freya and figure out a new plan,” Sindri whispered, ushering the other two back towards the middle of the room. Kratos sent them back, more aggressively than intended or necessary, but neither brother nor head said anything. 

It wasn't until they were crammed into the boat and halfway to Freya's cave that the compass lit up again with the rune of the torch. Kratos quickly turned the boat around without a word and rowed them up the river until they reached a large clump of rocks not far from the cabin. Kratos hopped out of the boat, walking around it.

“This is all it points to, but the rune is not here,” he growled in frustration. Sindri frowned, putting a hand against the face of one of the rocks.

“Well it clearly goes somewhere,” Brok stated. “Got any way to open it?”

“Maybe….” his brother muttered. “This might take a while.”

Kratos paced angrily away from them.

“Where would it go?” he asked.

“The Ironwoods, I expect,” Mimir answered. “Funny, not too long after Thor first showed up the lad followed a wolf to this place only to find it disappear here.”

“What are the Ironwoods, why did he not tell me of this?”

“It's a place that's…. Other, from Midgard, but Midgard is the only way to access it. All manner of beings live there, but I've never been, personally. I'm sure he didn't think it necessary to tell you when nothing particular came of it. Just a wolf from there visiting and running back when it got spotted, is all.”

“Hmm.” Kratos turned to look back at Sindri trying to open the entrance in the rocks before glancing at the sky. It was still as dark as it had become when Atreus’ fever returned, but there hadn't been any earthquakes since they had gotten back. He thought for a moment. There had not been any earthquakes before they left for Asgard, either. If they truly were being caused by Atreus somehow, as he suspected, then that may give a time as to when these strangers had taken his son.

He heard a shout from Sindri and looked to see a dark hole in the rocks where he had been standing, with Brok peering in.

“What happened?” He asked, walking over.

“He opened a hole is what happened, dumb fucker fell in it, too.”

“Hm,” Kratos hummed before pushing the dwarf in after his brother and climbing down himself, ignoring Brok’s rude exclamations to follow the compass. It lead to an opening in another outcrop of rocks, revealing a forest further along into spring than the one they had just left. Kratos didn't pay it any mind, preferring to break through the underbrush and trees until they reached a clearing with a large cottage, where they found the rune.

It looked sturdy, built with river stone and logs. The shutters were closed tight, giving no hints of life.

Kratos banged on the hard wooden door.

“Open up!” He yelled. Something was dropped to the floor with a clatter.

“Don't you think you should be a little nicer-” Sindri started, before a slot in the door opened showing two dark brown eyes nearly level with Kratos’ own.

“Who are you?”

“Where is my son?” They demanded simultaneously.

“If you are to be my guest then state your intention,” the young sounding, feminine voice ordered.

“I am looking for my son,” Kratos growled.

“Step away from the door so I can see your face.” He did so, and the girl hummed thoughtfully from the other side before sliding the slot shut. Kratos was about to yell at her again when they heard latches being undone.

The door opened to show a tall, broad-shouldered girl who could have been mistaken for older if it were not for the youthful roundness of her face. Her hair was the deepest red Kratos had ever seen, without hints of brown or orange. It was wrapped up and sewn in tight braids crowning her head, the same way Faye would do hers if she planned to spend time bent over the garden that day.

“Who is it?” Mimir whispered, only able to see the dwarves from where he hung off the belt. 

“I don’t recognize her,” Sindri whispered as the girl turned and walked back into the house.

There was a great hearth in the wall across the door where something was cooking in a brass pot, as well as a long table and a group of soft looking chairs, but Kratos did not see anyone. A look at the table yielded an assortment of weapons, including his sons.

“Do you wield both of these?” he asked about the spear and greatsword, trying to gauge if the girl was the only one to worry about.

“I am capable,” she answered truthfully, avoiding his real question. “Leave your weapons on the table, I have yet to find a better place to keep so many.” Kratos was reluctant, but Mimir insisted it was custom for houseguests to relinquish their arms in good faith. When the god turned, Mimir saw the girl and gasped. 

“Angrboda!”

“What!” she jumped, not immediately noticing the head.

“It’s Mimir! On the belt!”

“Oh that’s something,” the girl exclaimed, bewildered, in the shrill kind of voice that confirmed to Kratos that she couldn’t be far off from his son’s age. “Anyway, uh, Loki’s in here,” she said, opening a door. Kratos spun around so fast Mimir’s jaw hit the table corner. The girl took him off the belt as Kratos hurried past her and tossed him to Brok so she wouldn’t have two men pestering her with two completely different kinds of questions.

The bed against the wall was larger even than the one Kratos had shared with Faye, with posters and colorfully woven curtains. It was not the room of a child. He ignored the blankets tented between the second fireplace and a series of chairs and went straight to his son’s side.

“Is he alright?”  he asked, kneeling down.

“He will be fine.” There were bandages around his face and neck, clearly fresh.

“Why are his lips blue?”

“Odin wanted to stretch his time as far as possible and dunked him into Helheim every once in a while. It can take its toll, even on a Frost Giant, but he hasn’t lost feeling. It’s just been a while longer for him since he last saw you.” Kratos dug his nails into his palms and breathed deeply to remain composed.

“Why did you save him?” The girl smiled, but Kratos didn’t like the feel of it.

“Well, we can’t have our leader die as a child, it’s much easier to save a live person from Helheim than a dead one, after all.”

“What do you mean by leader?” The girl made a difficult face.

“I just… He’s going to find us.  _ All _ of us; and Odin will suffer for it.”

“You are a Giant.”

“Yes.” Kratos looked down at what was uncovered of his son’s sleeping face.

“What was done to him?” Kratos asked quietly. Angrboda’s face turned to stone.

“They tied him still and had snake venom drip onto his face. His sight will not be damaged, thankfully, but we will have to keep salve on the burns to keep them from scaring.”

She sensed his anguish and took a step back.

“I'll leave you two alone.” He nodded thankfully.

He heard the door close behind her, but Atreus didn't react to any of the noise.

Kratos had never imagined that something could be worse than the feeling of helplessness he experienced whenever Atreus was sick.

He blamed himself.

All of it could have been prevented if he had just gone with Atreus, or gotten there sooner, or-

“Dad?” A small, hoarse voice whispered. Kratos looked up from his self-loathing in surprise. Atreus’ blue eyes squinted up at him. He found himself unable to speak. “Are you okay?” He asked when his father's silence stretched. The absurdity of the question helped the man find his voice again.

“I am not the one Odin captured.” It came out harsher than he intended, and Atreus looked away. “Do not worry about me when you are the one who is injured.” His attempt at correcting himself and his tone was unsuccessful.

“I'm okay though, it's not as bad as it looks, really-”

“-Do not make light of what has been done to you for my sake, Atreus, it will help nothing.”

Atreus fell silent, looking away again. Kratos sighed.

“I failed to save you,” the man stated finally, staring down at the floor. Atreus began to protest but he was cut off. “I should have been sooner.”

“That doesn't matter, you still found me, and if Angrboda had never come you would have found me even with Odin's tricks.”

“You have a lot of confidence in me,” he noted quietly. Atreus shrugged, then winced.

“I don't have a reason not to…”

Kratos stared past him silently, unsure what to say. He decided to process his son's unfailing faith in him at a later time and changed the subject.

“Are you cold?” he asked. Atreus nodded with a quiet hum. “Give me a moment.”

He stood, unbuckling his armor and boots and setting them on top of the chest at the foot of the bed as he walked to its other side. Atreus watched sleepily as his father climbed into bed next to him.

“This should help keep you warm,” he stated.

“Is this because mom always said you were better than any blanket in winter?” Atreus giggled quietly.

“Perhaps,” the god mused, wrapping an arm around his son. When the blankets lifted he saw that Atreus was without his shirt and that a copious amount of bandages had taken its place. He distanced himself from his worried anger and stared at the ceiling as the boy huddled down against his side. He did feel cold to the touch. Kratos glanced down. Atreus looked asleep, but he knew he wasn't yet.

“You should rest,” he advised softly. 

“Mmm… so should you….”

“Is that not what I am doing now?”

“Mmm…”

Atreus went quiet, so Kratos looked around at the room. He stared a while at the shadow cast against the tent of blankets by the fireplace. There seemed to be someone sleeping there on the floor, possibly someone who had been there to save his son when he failed to make it in time, leaving him in the hands of complete strangers-

“Stop blaming yourself,” Atreus muttered. Kratos looked down at him in surprise.

“What?”

“Stop blaming yourself,” he repeated, louder. “I can  _ feel _ you doing it. Stop. It isn't your fault.”

“What do you mean you can feel it?”

“You’re always telling me not to dwell on things and then you agree with that lady who calls you a monster for how you aren't even acting anymore.”

“I think… you need to sleep.”

“No! You need to stop listening to her! She's not even real it's just you!”

“Atreus,” he said harshly, the rest of his sentence cut off when the red-haired girl returned to the room with a steaming metal cup. She glanced awkwardly at the two of them before walking past the bed and approaching the tent. Kratos took the interruption as time to compose himself.

“You are unwell. We will speak of this later.”

“You shouldn't listen to her,” the boy repeated quietly.

“That is  **enough** .”

Atreus glared into the distance as his father had a silent crisis over what he had just revealed. The man took watching their host as a welcome distraction.

Angrboda knelt at the opening, putting her steaming cup to the side as she whispered to whoever was in the tent.

Kratos looked down to ask his son if he knew who was in there, but the boy had fallen asleep. Looking at Atreus’ calm face, as bandage covered as it was, he couldn't help but wonder how much he knew, and for how long. If he had ever intended to bring it up or if the haze of injury had just loosened his tongue.

“I can hold it for you,” he heard the girl say softly, “stop trying so hard.”

The person in the tent was another girl, now pulled into Angrboda’s lap, pale with the cold. Her hands were heavily bandaged all the way to her wrists, yet she still attempted to take the cup herself.

“Why are you so stubborn,” she sighed, lightly pushing the hands away and bringing the cup up for the straw-haired girl to drink from. “That should help warm you back up.”

“You would too if you stayed here with me,” the girl told her, resting her head under Angrboda's chin, making her blush. “See? Already warm and toasty, just for me,” the blonde teased.

“Sig,” Angrboda exclaimed quietly, pressing her palms to her face in embarrassment while the other giggled.  

“I hope you're glad you're stuck with me now!”

“I'm  _ elated _ , Sigyn, now go back to bed.”

“But you're warmer than bed,” Sigyn mock-whined, rolling over to wrap her arms around Angrboda's waist. The redhead gave Kratos an exasperated look. All he could do was shrug.

“Can we at least get onto the blankets and off of the floor before you fall asleep on me?”

“I'll allow it.”

“Then get off of me.”

“No.”

Angrboda let out as long a sigh as her lungs would allow before Sigyn sat up and crawled back into the blanket tent. Instead if following her Angrboda stood up, taking the cup with her and putting it on the bedside table.

“Is he asleep?” She asked, looking at Atreus.

“Yes.”

“The boy does as he’s told, she said to the tent.”

“Rarely,” Kratos added, receiving an ugly snort from both girls.

“I will leave you while it lasts, then,” the redhead grinned, pulling the bed's curtains closed so that she and Sigyn would not disturb them. Kratos appreciated the sentiment. He hadn't slept since Freya had saved him, and the week had worn him thin.

Now, with Atreus safe and sound next to him, he could finally rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey now.... he didn't *Find* Atreus being snaked.....
> 
> (literally that whole part was already written before i put up chapter four, your comment Killed Me)


	6. The Tree

Kratos drifted back into wakefulness to feel a heavy weight on his chest. Cracking open his eyes he saw that a large red and brown tabby had decided to make a bed of him. He sighed and looked over at Atreus, who was either still sleeping or sleeping again. The bandages on his face still looked fresh, but there were less of them than before and he was wearing a yellow shirt that was too large for him. Kratos stared at the ceiling, cat purring on his chest, and wondered how long he had been asleep for. He heard a conversation in the other room and smelled something he guessed to be stew being cooked. He glanced to his other side and saw that the chairs and blankets had been removed from the fireplace.

The cat stood up and stretched, and Kratos couldn't tell if it was uncommonly large in truth or in his personal experience of cats in Greece, which, in general, had proved much smaller than even the normal cats of Midgard.

The cat sat proudly on top of him, looked at him with bright amber eyes, and meowed alarmingly loud. Kratos shushed it.

“He is  _ sleeping _ ,” he whispered, “do not wake him.”

The cat disobeyed.

The door opened just as he was shushing it again.

“I hadn't taken you as one to talk to cats,” Freya said, standing amused in the doorway.

“It will wake Atreus.”

“He has slept enough by now I am sure,” she chuckled. 

“How long was I-”

“-Two days. He's been awake since-”

“-Get out here and eat something,” Angrboda interrupted, poking her head over the goddesses shoulder, “Wake Atreus it's breakfast.”

“Stew for breakfast?” Atreus groaned, sitting up.

“I put it in bread.”

“...what?”

“It’s in bread.”

“The... stew?”

“Yes.”

“...Huh.”

Angrboda walked away, leaving Atreus confused at how someone could fill bread with something liquid.

“We will join you shortly,” Kratos said to Freya. She nodded and followed the girl out of the doorway. 

“How the heck do you put  _ stew _ in  _ bread _ ?” Atreus whispered loudly.

“I do not know,” his father replied with a slight smile, “but we are welcome to find out.”

Atreus picked the cat off of his dad and hopped out of bed, Kratos following him out of the room shortly. The brothers, two girls, and Freya were all in the room, with Mimir's head on the mantle of the fireplace and the hopeful parts of a new body scattered across a traveling workbench in a seemingly random assortment further into the room past the dining table. Angrboda stood at the hearth, putting small loaves of bread onto plates. Sigyn was in the rocking chair, with the other three sat at the table. 

“How did you even manage this?” The blonde exclaimed, holding what seemed to be Atreus’ shirt in her lap, “this seam is wider on one end than on the other and thickest in the middle! What did you do?”

“I mended it!” Angrboda replied over her shoulder.

“It doesn't count as 'mending’ if you make it worse, it looked better full of holes!” There was a ripping noise as she cut through the offending stitches. Angrboda let out an offended huff and heated a skillet up on her palm before cooking some slivers of meat.

“For the love of all, Boda, stick to your knitting.”

“I shouldn't even be letting you  _ use _ your hands so soon,” she stated, gesturing pointedly at the girl with a wooden spoon as one would scold a child. Kratos took a seat, leaving one between himself and Freya, which Atreus then occupied as the girls continued their banter.

“It isn't as if you can still see tendons-”

“That doesn't mean it's okay!”

Both girls sighed irritably, but the cottage was left in silence for only a moment before Angrboda spoke up again.

“At least  _ I  _ can  _ cook _ ,” she teased with a wolfish grin.

“It isn't  _ my fault _ that none of the things I know how to cook grow around here!” Sigyn near-shrieked. Kratos frowned and looked at the girl more closely. She spoke Norse with an accent, as he and Mimir did though none of them matched, and despite her fairness, she had a flat face and smooth eyelids, which did not fit the appearances he thought of as typical of the north. Angrboda placed plates with a small bread on each paired with a cut of meat in front of them.

“You know I love you,” Angrboda sang, looking at Sigyn over her shoulder.

“I think I need more convincing,” she giggled. Freya laughed into her hand.

“Stew bread,” she announced, then looking at Sigyn, repeated it while pointing at a chair.

“What, are you done feeding me? You're okay with me using my delicate injured hands?” Atreus narrowly avoided spurting water out of his nose. The ends of Boda's loose hair briefly caught fire as she blushed profusely. The adults in the room exchanged amused looks.

Sigyn put the mangled shirt to the side and stood, Kratos flinching at the sound of the heavy iron chain she kept tied around her waist. He couldn't help but notice the single sided, curved knife secured to it against her hip, or that it matched that of the spear he had seen on the table two days prior.

“I do not recognize that style of blade,” he said when she took the seat next to him, across from Angrboda, who did not feel comfortable taking her mother's place at the head of the table.

“It is from my mother,” she stated bluntly.  Freya was about to ask her who she was when Angrboda hushed her, looking wide-eyed at a glowing rune on the latch of the door.

“Mom’s room,  _ now _ ,” she growled, shooting up from her chair. The fire died instantly. “Take everything you brought into the room with you,  **quickly** .” She tossed Mimir’s head to Kratos as the brothers carried their workbench into the bedroom. Sigyn grabbed the weapons, Atreus what she was working on before breakfast.

“What is going on?” Freya asked, beating Kratos to the question.

“If you make this place look as dead and unlived as possible, I’ll tell you,” the girl replied as she was already doing just that, casting an illusion of dust and cobwebs. A draft of cold air filled the room, and Kratos caught Atreus and Sigyn high five softly through the doorway. Angrboda ushered him and Freya into the bedroom and closed the door.

“Sit on the floor against the walls where it won’t creak.  _ Be Silent _ .”

“You told us it was safe here,” Freya said lowly. The girl took a deep, tense breath.

“He has every right to be here as I do,” she growled.

“Who is it?” the goddess insisted. The girl motioned her to be quiet, and the group heard heavy, stumbling footsteps outside. Suddenly the girl was a robin and flew up the chimney. They heard paws padding about outside soon after. There was a thud against the tall tree closest to the house. 

“You're always here, aren't you,” the man said. Immediately those new to the house knew who it was.

Thor's chest rattled with blood when he coughed. The wolf whined at him and lay down quietly. Inside the house, Kratos was unnerved by the still and quiet of Freya's cat as it sat with her. It didn't seem natural to him. He looked at Sigyn. She seemed calm like she hadn't been caught off guard as the rest of them had. He felt it was more likely that this was a place Thor frequented, for whatever reason, and that she hid often than that the girls who had saved Atreus from the Aesir would then return him to them. That did not stop him from preparing for the worst, however. Nothing ever would.

Thor sat under the tree for a long while talking to Wolf, unaware of her being anything other than an animal that had taken a liking to him.

Odin had nearly killed him in his rage at Thor's inability to recover the boy, and then thrown him from the peak of Asgard when he was sick of looking at him. He had landed close enough to one of his mother's passageways to avoid The World Serpent and stumble home, where Odin couldn't find him.

“But you find me,” the man sighed. “You always find me….” He pet the small wolf's tawny and grey head as it rested in his lap. 

They sat a tense and silent while inside the house until they heard the god stand up, bracing himself on the tree and saying his goodbyes to the wolf. 

**He’s going into town, we don’t need to worry now,** Atreus heard in his head from Angrboda. Soon after she swooped back through the chimney as a bird, unlocking the bedroom door and making the house look as it had before.

“Why did Thor come here,” Kratos demanded, following her.

“It is his home as much as mine,” she snapped, rounding to face him.

“You are not explaining yourself,” he growled as Atreus realized what the girl meant. 

“You’re his sister, aren’t you?” he asked. “Your mother was Jorth.”

“Yes,” she answered stiffly, glancing at the floor. 

“But he killed her during the war, how are you a child?” Freya asked.

“ **Odin** killed our mother,” the girl retorted, “and bewitched my brother’s awareness of the tales so he would turn to the Aesir alone.”

“Okay but that still doesn't explain while you're only the kids age,” Sindri stated, gesturing in Atreus’ direction.

“Mother turned me into a tree to hide me from Odin. I did not escape it until several seasons ago.”

“How did you manage it?” Kratos asked.

“It’s not important.”

The god frowned, but it was clear that she was past her limit on the subject. Atreus also picked up on this, speaking up before Freya could interrogate more.

“We should finish breakfast!”

“Yes!” Sigyn cheered, clapping her hands together before wincing slightly. Angrboda rolled her eyes and punched her lightly in the shoulder when she passed.

In the next couple of minutes, they had put the house in its previous order and sat back down at the table. 

“Is Odin your father as well?” Sindri asked during their second attempt at breakfast. The girl stared at him coldly, mouth full of food. Jorm poked his head out of Atreus’ chest pocket with a yawn. 

“He is not,” she answered eventually. “My father is Surtr.”

“Well you was obviously  _ some kind _ of fuckin’ Eldjötunn with all the fire you’ve been catchin’” Brok exclaimed, “but Surtr? Since when did that bloke get up here?” The girl shrugged.

“Never met him.”

“You don’t know your own father?” Atreus asked, surprised.

“He never wanted to visit, why would I care?”

“You’re so harsh,” Sigyn giggled.

“Whatever,” she sighed, shoving the rest of the bread in her mouth and getting up from the table. “I’m gonna talk with the bees.”

“You have bees here?” Kratos asked.

“Yeah, she has animals too,” Atreus answered before cutting himself off, “Wait! Show dad the thing you do with eggs!”

“What?”

“Mouth it!” he demanded confusingly. Brok and Sigyn lost it. Angrboda quickly returned with a fresh egg, and, while standing in the doorway, cracked it into her mouth to the horror of both parents in the room. Then she walked back to the table and spit the fully cooked egg onto her empty plate. Atreus whooped. Kratos stared at the teens with his head in his hands. 

“Isn’t that cool?” his son asked, beaming at him.

“It is… an interesting skill…”

“Please tell me  _ you _ are going to eat that,” Sindri said. Sigyn made stern eye contact with him as she picked up the egg and swallowed it whole. He yelled in horror. Brok and the other two teens failed to hold in their laughter.

“Okay, okay,” Angrboda gasped once she could breathe again, “I seriously need to do housework.”

“And  _ I _ need to fix all your horrendous shirt crimes,” Sigyn teased. 

“Fine,” the girl huffed, walking back around the table and grabbing Atreus’ arm. “Let's chat with the bees.”

“O-okay,” he stuttered, following her out of the house. 

“Well,” Brok started, pushing out his chair and slapping his brother on the shoulder, “Let's get workin’ on that body.”

“Right, right.”

Freya and Kratos looked at one another, the only ones left at the table with the brothers at the workbench and Sigyn in the corner chair.

“Are you… familiar… with teenagers?” the god asked.

“All children are different,” she sighed, “I’m sure they will be-” -there was the clear sound of one of them falling off of the roof and the other laughing- “-...fine.”

Kratos sighed deeply and stared into the crackling fire. 


	7. Outside of Midgard

“So how does Thor not know the wolf is you?” Atreus asked as he followed Angrboda to where the bees were kept. “I mean, you’re huge and red.”

“That’s not my only form,” she laughed, “I look like a normal silver wolf when I see him. The other just takes less energy because it looks more like me.”

“Huh.” Atreus teetered next to her on top of a dead log, arms out for balance. Angrboda braided her hair and tied it into a knot behind her while they walked.

“Besides, I think he'd attack if I was that other one since I got you two out of Asgard that way.”

“Right.”

She glanced over at him as he hopped off the end of the log. He watched the ground, frowning slightly with pursed lips.

“You have a question?”

“You don't want to talk about it.”

“Oh.” She looked at the sky through the greening branches. It had gotten stormier looking, but that was only because of her brother. It would clear either as he healed or once he returned to the realms.

Eventually, they reached the still dormant beehive.

“They're not awake yet, it hasn't stayed warm enough yet,” she told him, sitting cross-legged in the ground.

“How were they for the winter?”

“Fine. I’d been saving stocks up since I woke up, so I had old honeycomb to put back, and feed for the chickens and goats.”

“How did you know it would come so quickly?” he asked, plopping down next to her.

“Our kind is good at seeing the future.”

“What did you see?” He asked slowly. Angrboda sighed, not wanting to touch the subject, but knowing she would have to answer at least partly.

“Your mother didn't have many years left, and Baldr would be killed soon after.”

“Oh. Did you… ever meet her?”

“I didn’t know her well,” she said, looping around his question. Atreus looked at the ground, frowning.

“Oh.”

“Anything else you wanna ask me?” She leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, looking at him from the side. He glanced at her. The sunlight glinted playfully off of the copper highlights in her eyes, and he noticed for the first time ember-like freckles that danced across her nose.

“I already said you're not gonna want to talk about it.”

“How do you know?” She asked almost teasingly.

“Because you're like my Father, and I know when to stop asking questions,” he replied in turn, though that wasn’t all true. His father’s reactions to him crossing the line were always predictable, but his emotions tended to be now that he knew him better. Angrboda’s were, as far as Atreus could tell after the few days, chaotic and fleeting. She grinned, and he didn't like the tone of it.

“But you know anyway, right? The things he won't talk about?”

“What?”

“You yelled at him when you were still sick, about how he should stop blaming himself.” She crossed her arms and leaned forward, resting her chest on her knees.

“I did?” Atreus groaned, putting his face in his hands, ignoring how the added pressure stung. “He's not supposed to know about that…”

“Oh well, he does now, and you do too, about him. How'd you do that anyway?”

“I didn't… _ do _ anything,” Atreus retaliated, “just…. I see his nightmares. They're always things that happened in Sparta, or something like that again  _ here _ , and sometimes it happens when he's awake? I don't understand why it happens but. I know things I shouldn't.”

“Looks like you have some sort of reverse prophecy,” Angrboda deduced, sitting up to pat him on the shoulder.

“I'm the realms’ most useless seer,” he sighed dramatically. She let out an awful snort, leading them into a fit of giggles. 

“I don’t put much faith in prophecies now anyway,” Angrboda admitted, when they had caught their breaths. 

“Why not?”

“Odin’s just…” she shrugged, “He’s so hel bent on stopping Ragnarok that now everything is timed wrong. I can’t even do my part of it because it’s already started. We’re not even adults yet.”

“What were you supposed to do?” He didn’t miss her glance towards his chest where Jorm was sleeping.

“My kids were meant to be… involved, but now fate’s needing to bring them about in other ways.”

“Oh.”

“That’s probably why he came when he found out what my mother had named me,” she laughed darkly. Atreus looked soberly at the ground, dragging his finger aimlessly through the loose dirt.

“Was your brother there?” he asked eventually. He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye. She tugged at the wrapped sleeves of her white undershirt idly before looking down and fingering the worn and scrappy edges of her brown tunic. 

“He lived with us. He was almost an adult when I was born, made sure the house was taken care of while she was busy with me, took care of the animals and the garden… We're the only ones she ever taught how to cross between Midgard and this place, so it was always quiet,” she reminisced. Atreus frowned.

“What do you mean 'cross between’? I thought this was just another part of Midgard?” He watched her expression change. It wasn't a wince, but her dark eyes scrunched up and she wasn't quite smiling.

“It's... complicated. Midgard is the realm of mortals that we have direct influence over with how we behave as… who we are. This place is indirectly influenced by what happens in Midgard. They have tales of Ragnarok and the world serpent, Skol and Hati, the Bifrost, but they are not actually here and present the way they are in Midgard.”

“So… that's how Father left Greece and ended up here -Midgard I mean- the way he did? Did he come through here?”

“Probably.”

“Is that how Tyr traveled too?”

“I… don't know. I wouldn't ask.”

“What do you mean?”

The girl shrugged awkwardly, tucking already tucked hair behind her ear. Atreus didn't like that she seemed nervous, but it was kinda cute. He figured he'd change the subject.

“How did you learn to shapeshift?”

“My brother started teaching me when I was little.”

“Not your mother?”

“No,” she laughed, “she already had to worry about me running around and climbing by myself, she didn’t want to add magic to the mischief. It was our little secret.” Atreus laughed. “So Laufaye never taught you magic?” she asked eventually.

“No… we, we thought she was mortal. I thought both of them were….”

“So… you never noticed your father doing anything that made him stand out from her?”

“No?”

“And you didn’t realize that there not being a difference between them in strengths  when you found out your father was a god wouldn’t be possible if she was mortal?”

“It was a busy couple of days, okay?” he exclaimed, “There was a  _ lot _ going on!”

“What’s  _ really _ funny is your  _ father  _ not noticing,” she giggled.

“He assumed mortal women from the north were just like that,” he shrugged, making her laugh again. He liked that she laughed a lot. Her eyes and nose scrunched up, and she rocked forward into her lap. Sigyn laughed a lot too, but hers was quieter, less sudden. Her face looked like laughter before her voice caught up. 

“Once, when my mother was finally teaching me to shift, I became a rabbit and a hawk swooped down and caught me.” Atreus looked back to her, startled, but she still looked cheerful. “I turned back into myself to escape, but it was just Thor. He dove below me and changed so he could catch me before I hit the ground.”

“Why would he do that?!” She shrugged, looking at the ground since Atreus didn’t find the story as light-hearted as she intended it to be. “Mother scolded him, but he didn’t hurt me, he just wanted to keep me on my toes.”

“Seems like something my father would do,” Atreus remarked, knocking his shoulder against hers to repair the playful tone of the conversation. She grinned and pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them and resting her chin there. They were silent for a moment, listening to the calm of the wind above the trees. Sitting next to Angrboda, the chill didn’t feel so sharp.

“He was good... when I knew him,” she said softly, staring blankly ahead.

“Will you ever tell him you’re alive?” he asked quietly.

“I hope to… I just don’t know if there will ever be the right time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment if you liked!


End file.
